


From Dawn To Dusk

by allthewaytoerebor



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BAMF John, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Horny John, Horny Sherlock, M/M, Masturbation, Murder Kink, Older John, Teen Sherlock, Top John, Vampire John, Vampire Sex, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6513811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthewaytoerebor/pseuds/allthewaytoerebor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock could spend hours looking at him, the boy who never seemed to get tired.<br/>John was a new slave working for the Holmes family; but there was something strange with him. </p><p> </p><p>I know, I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! so since this is my first fic, there might be some spelling/grammar errors. But please, feel free to comment if you see any. also, enjoy this first chapter of "From dawn to dusk"!

William Sherlock Scott Holmes was never particularly close to his family. He lived with them, yes, but they were always bothering him and telling him what to do.

The day Sherlock had turned 14, he ran away from everything. His big house, his stupid family and their boring lifestyle. He remembers exactly how it felt. The wind in his curly, dark hair while his body tried to keep up with his feet. Nothing could stop him. He ran so far that when he had stopped to rest, the moon was already on its way up.

Sherlock laid down on the green grass and looked up at the moon and the stars. His tall, skinny body felt so tired. He could not feel his legs anymore; and his arms felt like they could break off at any time soon.

When he had awoken in the morning, he felt like a whole new person. Every limb of his body felt new. “It is amazing what one night good sleep can do to you” He had thought to himself. Even though he did not love his parents, he cared for them. He knew that his mum was probably worrying to death over him, while his dad and brother did not care as much.

On his way back he felt the urge to stay in the woods; he knew he could not do it, but something deep inside of him told him to. With every step he took, his feet felt heavier. Not because of tiredness, simply because he did not want to return to his boring life.

As he was nearing the end of the woods, his family’s huge mansion started to appear. The house grew tall before him, and soon he could see his mum and brother sitting at their doorstep. Sherlock’s mother was crying, and his brother, Mycroft, was sitting beside her with his hand on her back.

They did not seem to notice him at first, but then, his mother lifted her head up. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her hair was a mess. “Sherlock!” she almost whispered; as she ran over to her son and hugged him.

“How dare you run away like that, and on your birthday!” Sherlock did not know how to put an answer to this, therefore the only thing he could do at that moment was to hug his mother back. Sherlock saw Mycroft sending him a cold look behind their mothers back. As they let go of etch other Sherlock tried to find the right words to say, but he found it hard.

“I did expect more of you, brother mine. You are not a child anymore.” Mycroft’s cold voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I am deeply sorry mother; this will not happen again.” Sherlock found his words.

“For your sake, I hope it does not!” his father all of the sudden said as he came out of their house.

“Sherlock dear, you must be hungry!” his mother said. “Come on in and eat supper with us” So Sherlock did.

Later that night Sherlock could not sleep. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position in his bed. The only thing he could think about was the smell of green grass and the sound of birds twittering. Oh, how he missed it.

He hated his life. He hated how he could get everything; except freedom. It was all he wanted. He knew he should not complain, for he lived in wealth; but it was not the way he wanted to live. “someone, please save me from this nightmare” he thought to himself before sleep took his mind.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Now, tree years later Sherlock still has the same thoughts. They corrupt his mind every night; and some nights he cannot sleep at all. It feels like his life is getting more boring for every day, as etch day feels like another blank piece of paper waiting to be written on.

Sherlock woke up to another nightmare. It did not come as a big surprise to him; he was used to waking up early in the morning because of his twisted dreams. He laid in his bed for a while, thinking about how he would like to spend his day.

The only thing he could think of right at that moment, was to go outside, sit down under their big oak tree they had in their garden, and read a good book.

He stood up from his bed, and made his way to his closet. He putted on one of his many black trousers, and a white linen shirt.

The breakfast he ate was not much; only one apple. “but at least it is something” he thought to himself. Some days Sherlock could skip every meal of the day, and he knew very well himself that he was losing weight.

Sherlock grabbed a book from their library before he went outside. The book was about a girl who felt locked away in her own body, almost like Sherlock.

Going outside felt good, like it always did. The sun was shining upon the blue sky, and the twittering sound of birds surrounded him. The crisp morning air felt fresh against Sherlock’s pail skin, he did not feel sick anymore.

He sat down under the big, old oak tree and pulled out his book. He had never read it before.

Sherlock could spend hours sitting under that tree, and get totally lost in the book he would read. It was always a good way to spend his days.

He did not notice how fast time had passed, when all of the sudden his mother was walking towards him. “There you are! Me and your father are going to the slave marked, just thought you would want to know.” She said. This did not come as a surprise to Sherlock, his parents where often going to the marked to trade slaves. Sherlock nodded up to his mother.

He saw his parents leave in their big, brown carriage. The horse pulling the carriage was a black gelding. It trotted forward elegantly, watching where it stepped for every time it took a step. Sherlock admired the creature.

He watched his parents leave their property before he went back to his book.

Hours later he could hear the sound of horse hooves trotting forward. As Sherlock lifted his head up, he could see his parents’ carriage stopping before their house.

Sherlock decided to get up and see if any new slave vas there; it was always fun for him to detect new people. This was a method Sherlock had been practising for years. He could look at people and see their life story, as if someone would have told him.

He stopped before their carriage, and he saw his parents coming out. But there where someone else there.

The boy looked about Sherlock’s age. His body was short, but also muscular. His hair was golden, and his eyes where blue. Sherlock had never seen anyone so beautiful before; and he found it hard to take his eyes off the boy. Sherlock tried to detect him, but it was impossible. There were no clues on the boy; everywhere he looked turned into a dead end.

“Hello my darling!” his mother interrupted his deductions. “how have you been?”

“Fine. Nothing much have happened since you left” sherlock answered with a slightly deep tone in his voice. 

“Let’s go inside, shall we? I am simply starving.” His father spoke up.

When they came inside, their dinner was already on the table. It was goose with red-wine sauce and potatoes.

Sherlock was not feeling particularly hungry; but he knew he needed to eat.

No one had said a word around the table yet. “Everyone are probably enjoying their food” Sherlock thought to himself. What a waste of time; he could be wandering around in the woods.

But Sherlock had many questions he needed to ask, and he could not bear the silence anymore.

“Who was that new boy?” Sherlock finally questioned his parents.

“Oh, well he is here to work on our new barn.” Sherlock´s father quickly answered. “and I suspect he will stay here and work for us a long while after we finish the barn.” He added.

“what is his name?” Sherlock asked. He needed to know, like a sailor needs his ship.

“well, darling! How are we supposed to know that?” His mother spoke up. “besides, they do not deserve to be called by any names.” Sherlock´s father added with a bitter voice, somewhat angry.

Sherlock felt stupid for asking, now his father was probably mad at him.

Nothing more was said that dinner, as there where nothing to say. Sherlock went to bed early. But he could not sleep, as usual.

Every time he tried to clear his mind, he would see the golden-haired boy. He could not take his thoughts off him. He found this annoying, but also enjoyed the image of him. Sherlock had so many questions buzzing through his head, almost all of them about him. After many hours he finally fell asleep, with all his thoughts still directed towards the blue eyed slave.


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock experiences something new and watch the new slave working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will contain smut, so if you´re not into that kinda stuff just skip the first part of this chapter.

When Sherlock woke up the next day, he was feeling something strange. He had never been feeling this way before; but he knew It would come sooner or later.  
Sherlock was feeling a kind of need, and he knew there where only one thing to do with his problem. He knew this feeling was there because of the blue eyed boy. Sherlock was rather exited to fix this problem, as it would be his first time. 

He pulled his trousers down; slowly. One deep breath in, and out. His skinny hand automatically started moving towards his erection, and he could feel his heart beating faster when he was getting near just touching himself. Then, he finally took himself in hand. It felt good, but strange at the same time. 

He slowly, carefully moved his hand up from the bottom of his cock. Sherlock moaned, as the only thing he could now feel was pleasure.  
Soon he was going faster. With every stroke he pulled his warm, soft flesh down, he felt a wave of a magical feeling going through his body. 

He could not help but imagine what it would feel like if it were the golden haired boy´s hand on him instead of his own, helping him, touching him so softly.  
Now Sherlock was close; his body galloped on towards completion, just a few strokes more.  
Then, he crossed the finish line with a final, deep, long moan. 

Sherlock had never felt this complete before. His body was covered in sweat, and the area of sheet around his now half stiff and sensitive cock was covered with his new, warm seeds.

He laid in his bed for a while; his exercise had exhausted him. Eventually, sleep took his mind.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He woke up on a beach, someplace he had never been. The sky was blue and the ocean was crystal clear. He could see a person walking towards him, but who it was where still unclear. He started walking towards the shape. 

Soon, they where only few meters from each other. He was starting to see who the person was now; it was the slave boy. 

He was stripped, free from his clothes, and his body was wet; possibly from swimming.  
The sun was shining, and the light reflected on his strong body. Sherlock wanted to touch him, to feel his entire body with desire. 

Sherlock reached his arm out, but the second before he got the pleasure of touching him, the boy faded away.  
Sherlock´s eyes filled with fear and anger, as he had almost gotten the chance of touching the slaves light tan, strong, perfect body. 

The clods became dark and the waves started crashing towards the beach with a big nature power.  
Soon, the storm was raging. 

Sherlock heard screams coming from the jungle, and when he turned to look, he saw a black shadow running towards him. Of fear, Sherlock started running towards the water. 

He had to swim, swim away from his nightmare.  
A shiver was sent down his spine as his left foot touched the water. He had expected the water to be warm and soft, but instead, it was cold and hard. But he did not care, as fear had taken over his mind. 

He continued running until the water had reached up till his chest. From now on he would have to swim; but Sherlock could not swim. He had never learned how to, and now he understood how problematic this actually was. 

He looked behind his back, and saw how dangerously close the shadow was starting to get. When he tried to lift his feet up so he could move away, his body froze. He was standing completely still, as he could not move any muscle, and he was starting to panic. 

The screams coming from the shadow became louder and shaper for every second. Sherlock manned his eyes shut, and screamed with all the force of his voice. Enough was enough, he wanted this nightmare to end.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sherlock woke up. He was, once again, covered in sweat. However, this time it was because of fear instead of pleasure.  
He was still catching his breath, and his mind was still scared. He kicked his dove down to the end of the bed. He´s body was way too warm for it. 

A few minutes passed where he just lied still and breath heavy. Then, he finally decided to get up. 

He swinged his feet over the side of his bed and stood up.  
The morning light from the sun was shining trough the rooms white curtains, so he could clearly see his whole room. 

He putted on the same outfit as he had worn yesterday. 

Walking down the stars felt oddly heavy, as his feet still where limp after his activity earlier in the morning.  
When he came around the corner to the kitchen, his family was already eating breakfast.

“Good morning, darling! Did you sleep well?” his mother asked once he entered their kitchen. 

“well, I guess.” He answered, you could hear how tired he was in his voice. “I am going right outside, I do not feel like eating right now.” He continued, as he started walking towards their entry hall.

“ok, but do not go far!” his mother said, with a certain worry in her voice, as he pulled his boots on. 

“oh, and be careful around the slaves! Some of them are quite reckless.” His father added before Sherlock slammed their front door shut. 

He did almost not catch his father´s words, however his thoughts went right to the new slave.  
Maybe his father was talking about him? Maybe he was a wild animal, who where here because he had done something illegal in his past? Maybe he was dangerous? 

This sent shivers down Sherlock´s spine. But he could not help but smile, as the thought of doing something reckless with him took his mind. 

He knew he should not be doing this, because of his fathers warning. But he could not help it. He had to see him. To see him sweat, to see his muscles flex in the sun, to hear him breathe deep, and maybe moan, of exhaustion and tiredness. 

He started walking towards the end of the woods, where he could see their twenty-four slaves chopping down wood.  
As he came closer he could see another man, standing at the side watching the slaves carefully.

Sherlock searched for the blue eyed worker some seconds, before he found him.  
He looked just as young as yesterday, and as Sherlock had expected, was he only wearing some dirty, blond shorts witch reached up till the lower part of his waist.  
His strong body was shining in the sun, almost like he had crystals in his pale, weakly tanned skin. His body was covered in sweat, but he did not look tired. His biceps flexed every time he forcefully hit the tree with his axe. 

The muscles in his stomach, legs and arms tightened as he lifted the whole tree with just his hands, and threw it to the side. He made a moan while doing this, witch made everything in Sherlock react with a shiver. 

How could someone possibly be that strong? 

Sherlock continued to watch carefully what he did. Every step, every flex, every movement.

He looked a bit more on the golden boy´s fantastic body before he set focus on his face. 

Something about those eyes; Sherlock could look into them forever.  
Something about his lips; Sherlock imagined himself kissing them for hours. 

Before Sherlock managed to do anything more, they´re eyes met. 

Time went completely still.  
It felt like there where only them in the world, as every sound became silent.  
Sherlock had never felt this way before; this spark of something deep inside of him. 

Then, the slave smiled. Sherlock´s heart started beating even faster.  
He tried to smile back, but he could not, every muscle in his body was frozen. He was stuck in the moment.  
They held gaze, looking deep into each others eyes. 

“Darling, I told you not to watch them!” a voice popped up beside him. 

Sherlock jumped, as this was completely unexpected. The slave boy looked away. ´Damn it, mother!´ Sherlock thought to himself.  
Of course, of course this had to happen. 

“I was being bored. I am sorry, will you forgive me?” Sherlock hid his anger under his answer and a sweet smile. 

“Well, it is quite all right. Just unexpected.” His mother answered with a soft voice. 

“Come on in with me and eat dinner, you have all ready skipped two meals.” She continued. 

“Fine.” 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sherlock spent the rest of his day reading his book. This time, the things the main character did was being described as drowning. This made Sherlock think of his dream; and how he could not swim (like the girl in the book).  
Later, he feel asleep with his mind on the new slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! please let me know what you think in the comments ; )


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to take his own life, but someone saves him.

Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night, maybe at tree am. He had definitely dreamed again; but this time he could not remember. He was warm, and his body was shaking. 

He laid in his bed for a while, trying to calm himself down.

Then he started thinking about the slave. 

Of course. 

Sherlock imagined his soft, warm, wonderful smile, witch made him calmer.   
He had never seen anything so beautiful as him before.   
Sherlock wanted to go meet him, to talk with him, to touch him, to feel him, and maybe kiss him.  
But he could not.

´he would not want that anyway´ an ugly voice talked in Sherlock´s mind. 

´he is too much for you, too beautiful.´ the voice continued.   
Sherlock was effected by this; he turned sad, and his heart grew heavier. 

´the ugly should not touch the beautiful.´   
Sherlock became furious. 

“Stop it!” he screamed to himself, as a tear dropped from his eye.   
Enough was enough; that was it. Sherlock could not do this anymore.

´what is the point of living, anyway?´ he thought. 

This was a perfect time of the day to do it in; everyone was sleeping, so no one would notice. 

Sherlock got dressed, and stepped quietly out of his room.   
He was light on his feet; so sneaking out was not a problem for him.   
The door creaked as he opened it; slowly, carefully. 

Sherlock knew a lake nearby. His plan was simple, go there and jump.   
It would be easy, he would drown at once. 

He shivered as the cold air started getting onto him.

The midnight air felt moist, cold and wet.   
The sky was collared dark blue, some clouds where visible, and the clear, bright white full moon was out.   
The forest where black, but Sherlock was not afraid of it. 

He started walking right towards the dim woods; fast. 

As he entered the forest sounds became stronger. The hooting of owls, the sound of an almost silent wind in the trees, and Sherlock´s deep, dark breathing.   
As he walked deeper into the darkness, his heart started beating faster. 

Soon, he was there. 

The lake was not so big, and only about four meters deep. the moonlight reflected on the black water. 

Memories of the day Sherlock had ran away on his 14th birthday came flashing back.   
This was the same lake as the one he had slept beside all those years ago.   
He remembered how it had been, he had felt so free; so complete. 

But now, he would be free forever. 

He waked fearfully over to a group of stones. He climbed upon the largest one, and prepared himself to jump.  
“I am not afraid of death.” He told himself, and repeated it over and over again until he was reckless. 

It felt like death himself was standing behind him, ready to push him anytime. 

Nothing could stop him now. 

Then, he finally jumped. As he hit the cold, hard, water, his mind focused on his smile. His wonderful, amazing smile.  
Sherlock tried to calm himself down with it as his mind stated panicking and his lungs started filling up with water.   
He tried to stop himself from fighting back and just let go, but his body would not.   
Sherlock´s head where dipping up and down from the water. 

Then, he heard something.   
Someone?   
No.   
he looked at where the voice was coming from.   
No, it could not he.   
It was him. 

He was standing at the shore, breathing deeply, with fear in his eyes.   
Sherlock could not see well, but he could just almost hear his soft voice yell; “Hold on, I am coming!” as he quickly unbuttoned his linen shirt. 

No, this could not be! 

This was just an hallucination. It was just his his own mind playing tricks on him, nothing more. 

Then, Sherlock let himself go. He´s body finally stopped fighting back.   
He was ready.   
Sherlock started sinking, fast.   
he closed his eyes.  
This is it, he thought.  
His whole body started panicking, more for each second.   
Then the beeping sound came. 

But then, the second before he faded away, a strong arm gripped around his waist and dragged him up; so his head would be over the surface.  
Sherlock gasped for breath. The fresh night air filled his lungs once more. 

As he opened his eyes, he could see the back of this person´s head. He had a strong back, and his hear was golden. His body was warm.   
Was this possible?   
Could this be him, or was this a way to be taken by death?  
Then, Sherlock fainted. This was all too much for him; his body could not take it. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hello, can you hear me?” Sherlock´s eyes where closed; but the sound of a soft voice faded into his ears as he woke up.

“Talk to me, please!” Then, Sherlock opened his eyes.

“Oh, thank god!” a person where leaning over him. the person had beautiful, blue eyes.

It took Sherlock a couple of seconds to realize whom it was; it was the beautiful slave, with a golden smile upon his lips. Sherlock´s heart started beating faster of this realization. 

“You” Sherlock said, with a weak voice, he had not recovered fully yet. 

“Yes, I am here. What where you doing, you could have died!” he said, now more aggressive; but still kind. 

It took Sherlock some time to progress this. He had saved him.

Sherlock had to know his name. No, he needed to know his name. 

“You, what is your name?” Sherlock asked. 

“John.” He answered. 

John. it sounded so simple, but still, so beautiful.  
This was now, Sherlock´s new favourite name. 

“And, how about you?” John, as Sherlock now referred him to, continued with a question. 

Sherlock was awe stuck in the moment, so he did not answer after some seconds.

“Sherlock” he answered, as he sat up, face to face with John. He looked deeply into his eyes.

“What a beautiful name, I have never heard it before.” John spoke, with his smile growing brighter. 

This made Sherlock smile.  
In some way, this made him expect to smile a lot more forward. He could stay in the moment forever.   
It was just like yesterday, but this time their faces where closer. Sherlock could hear John´s breathing, It was warm. 

Soon, they had sat there in maybe one whole minute looking into each other´s eyes.  
They could both do this forever.

Then, John broke the silence; Sherlock knew it would happen sooner or later. 

“Ehm, maybe we should be getting back? It will soon be morning, and I do not think your parents would like to wake up missing you” his voice was clear, rough but still soft. 

“Yes, well, thank you.” Sherlock answered. His voice was harsher than he had expected. 

“It was really no problem. But what are you doing here, anyway?” John spoke. 

“I would rather not talk about it” Sherlock answered. If he told him, he would might loose John for good. 

“But what are you doing here?” Sherlock had to ask. 

“Well, the man who usually locks the door to the slave-house, forgot it tonight. I could not just lie there when I had the chance to go out, so I waited until midnight before I walked quietly into the woods.” John answered, with his kind voice and still, a loving smile. 

Sherlock just nodded and smiled back, as they both stood up and started walking towards the Holmes´ mansion. 

They both knew they had to go each other´s ways.   
This thought all of the sudden came to Sherlock as they entered his family’s big property. 

“well, this is it” John spoke up. 

“Yes, I will see you tomorrow if I can” Sherlock answered, with a light grin upon his long face. 

“I would like that very much. Goodbye, for now” his face grew brighter as he said this,  
Sherlock could now see his perfectly shaped, somewhat sharp teeth within his smile.

They, once again, looked into each other´s eyes.

“Goodbye” Sherlock finally spoke; still smiling. 

Then, they walked each other´s directions.   
John headed towards the slave-house, And Sherlock went towards his big, white, house. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once Sherlock had stripped down to his trousers and laid down in his bed, he started thinking.   
He thought of how John, the amazing, incredibly beautiful John, had saved him. 

Sherlock wanted to know everything about him.   
How he could possibly be so strong, what his past was, how old he was, where he came from, what his favourite things was, and mostly why he had saved Sherlock. 

Where did he get his courage from? A normal person would just walk away, and never speak of what they had seen. But John, the possibly kindest human being on earth, had risked his own life to save Sherlock. 

He knew it would be hard to keep the contact between them, because of John being a slave, but Sherlock could not care less. 

Even though it was five am in the morning, Sherlock went into a deep sleep with his thoughts on John.

Maybe life is worth living after all.


	4. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in witch Sherlock takes a warm bath and something quite strange happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that I haven´t uploaded in forever, I have been quite busy with little time to write. but, here it finally is, so do enjoy! thank you all so much for following my work, it means a lot.

Sherlock awoken early in the morning.   
He had never been one of those to stay particularly clean all the time, But today, he felt like taking a bath. 

Once he sat down in the hot, clean, water, he could feel his own filthy body relaxed again.   
The water felt good, like it could heal anything. 

While he sat there, Sherlock begun to think of what he had experienced yesterday.  
Did it really happen? Or was it a dream? No, Sherlock was 99.9% sure it was real; witch was amazing. He should have died, but instead, John saved him. John. What a beautiful name. it sounded so simple, yet so brilliant.   
Something about John made Sherlock feel complete. Or, everything about John made Sherlock feel complete. Before he had met him he only saw black and white, but now, the whole world was full of colours. Even though he was scared of this new feeling, Sherlock allowed himself to fall. Oh, he would fall down the longest distance for John.

He wished John was there, bathing with him; cleaning him, kissing him, touching him. He knew this would and could never happen, as Sherlock lived in wealth and John was a slave. But oh, how he wished John was there. Sherlock was again starting to feel the kind of need he had felt some days ago. 

He reached down with his hand, and felt his own erection under the water. He was so hard and full, it felt like he could explode at any moment. When he took himself in hand, he closed his eyes and imagined John being there with him. He imagined John taking his cock in his small yet strong hands, and sliding them up and down on him; while Sherlock sat on John´s lap and felt his erection towards his arse. He imagined John´s Soft but husky voice whispering in Sherlock´s ear; “You look so beautiful like this. Do you want me to go faster?” and him stuttering back “Y-yes”. When Sherlock said this to himself he, still imagining John doing it, took a harder grip on himself and started going faster. For every time he moved his pale, long hand up on his shaft and then stroke back hard, he felt something go through his body, almost like a lighting. He kept going for a little longer, before he started galloping on to completion. His body started jerking into his hands while he was set on his goal.   
And then, he stroked back one long last time as his whole body is filled with a wonderful feeling too good to explain with words. 

Sherlock felt tired after his little exercise. In fact, he felt so tired that he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, he stood in the middle of the woods. The forest was misty and full of fog, so he could not see the sun. The air was moist and pale, while the trees surrounding him where old, and most seemed dead. He felt cold, colder then usual. When he looked looked down on himself he understood why. He was standing there completely nude. When he looked in front of him, he could see a big stone in the distance. He started walking towards it, slowly. The ground felt cold, but softer then he had expected; it was covered with dead leaves. 

As Sherlock got closer to the stone, he saw that it was not a stone after all; it was a crowd of people standing with their backs towards him; in different ages, genders and shapes. They where, as him, totally nude. However, all of them where pale in their skin, witch was also covered in blood, like they had murdered someone. Sherlock would normally be scared by this, but he stood there, brave in mind. 

Then, Sherlock took one more step forward. Bad mistake. As he sat his left foot down, he heard a stick snap in half. All of the shapes standing in front of him heard this, before all of them turned around. Oh no. Sherlock barely noticed that their eyes where closed before all of them snapped open at once. This itself sent shivers down Sherlock’s spine, but what really made his heart stop beating for a second, where their completely blood-red eyes witch where starring at him.  
At this point, Sherlock was terrified. What happened next, was even worse. They started walking towards him, slowly. Step by step. As they came closer, their lips turned to crooked smiles; after some seconds he could see two white, sharp, front teeth on the nearest one. She had long, golden hair, and her body looked old. 

Sherlock tried to move, but he was, once again stuck. He would turn and run, but he could not. His heart beet faster and his chest, and Sherlock swore he could feel it all the way up in his throat. As the leading front shape lifted her foot to take her last step towards him, she completely stopped. The female looked behind him, and when she saw whatever she saw, her facial expression went from cruel to scared in a second. She turned away from Sherlock and started running the other direction, in witch the others followed. What, or whom where they running away from? Scared as a lamp afraid of a wolf, Sherlock slowly turned to see what was coming. As he looked up, he saw it.  
It was the shadow, the same one from his earlier dream. It came fast towards Sherlock, as his recognisable screams got loader for each second. Sherlock tried to move. He was, once again, stuck. But he knew what he had to do. He shut his eyes close and forcefully screamed with all the air he had in his lungs.

When Sherlock opened his eyes again, he woke up in his bathroom. The water witch had been warm and clean, was now mid-temperature and dirty. Sherlock`s hair was almost fully dry, so he must have slept a while. 

Sherlock sat there for some time thinking about his dreams. Did they mean something? Perhaps it could be a warning, but what for? No, that was stupid. When he finally decided to get up, he discovered that he´s parents had not awoken yet-so Sherlock decided to go back to bed and wait for them to wake him up at breakfast.


End file.
